


the mistletoe mystery

by Cashay



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mistletoe, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, SHIELD, christmas tradition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-02-28 23:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2750807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cashay/pseuds/Cashay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is the mistletoe matchmaker, terrorizing SHIELD HQ each Christmas. He really wants Coulson to have someone to kiss under the mistletoe. So far he has had no luck but this year might be different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the mistletoe mystery

**Author's Note:**

> Well first FanFic in quite a while I'm very happy that I finished this, not always 100% happy with the result but that's for you to judge!
> 
> English isn't my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes!
> 
> This is part of the Feelstide Collection so thank you to the organizers you rock! :D

There were may holiday traditions at SHIELD. Most of them would be considered strange and either dangerous or completely made up by the standards of people whose job wasn't to deal with superheroes and -villains on a daily basis.

They had Christmas trees that could be used as battle stations - automatic weapon-branches and grenade ornaments included - while looking just like normal trees. And then there was the traditional game of exploding-gift-yuletide as well as several different advent calendar that you had to find or free of explosive before you could get to your present. And those were only the ones most favoured by the agents in HQ. Every field office had their own traditions.

Frankly Christmas traditions at SHIELD were a chance to act out insane ideas without a mandatory visit with psych.

But none of them was as feared or mysterious as the appearing of the mistletoes.

It sounded relatively harmless: Starting December 1st mistletoes started appearing all over HQ. The thing was that the didn't just appear in random places. They were placed for two people and two people only, disappearing as soon as the people had passed through them.

The scary thing was that the mistletoe person had a high success rate and the yearly appearing of the mistletoes led to a significant increase in relationship paperwork for HR. No one was really sure if they should be worried or amused.

**~*~**

“It's really a miracle that no one has caught on to you being the one putting up the mistletoes,” Coulson commented mildly from his desk where he was – as always – working on paperwork that he insisted was vital. How anything could be more vital than matchmaking and scaring the shit out of people Clint didn't quite know.

“Aw, c'mon Sir! I can be subtle. In fact I am always subtle,” Clint whined with a grin to the only person – aside from Tasha probably but she had never said anything – who had found out that he was responsible for the matchmaking mistletoes.

“Uhuh, so your definition of subtle is preparing the mistletoes in my office in plain sight and shooting arrows to matchmake at Valentine's Day. How no one has made the connection yet is beyond me. It is really embarrassing in fact for an agency of spies to not have figured this out yet.”

Coulson sounded disapproving but Clint was relatively sure that he enjoyed this almost as much as Clint did, mainly because he was the only one who was in on it. But Clint also had a hunch that Coulson was a closeted romantic.

“Maybe they just love the magic enough not to question it,” Clint drawled and waggled his eyebrows when Coulson looked over disbelievingly.

“Sure Barton, sure. Because magic is our favourite thing here at SHIELD.”

Clint laughed and turned back to look at the mistletoes that he was working on, binding the greenery together with a bright red ribbon and some Christmas decorations – this time in the form of tiny Santas.

“You know what, Sir? This year I'm finally going to find you a match!” Clint exclaimed, with a firm nod, deciding to ignore Coulson's negativity.

If he had still been looking at Coulson Clint would have been faced with a wistful, longing look but he was too focused on his preparations to spare any attention for his handler.

**~*~**  


Clint was hiding out in the vent above Agent May's office, knowing that Coulson was on his way here. After all he was just coming out of a budget meeting which meant that his hate for the financial department of SHIELD had been renewed and he needed someone to bitch about it.

For some reason May was always his first choice in matters like budgets. If it hadn't been for his complete disinterest in finances Clint might have been hurt, he was a great person to bitch with after all!

As it was Clint was relatively sure that Melinda May was a good choice for Coulson. There was some kind of spark between them, Clint was sure. But then Clint had seen a lot of sparks where Coulson was involved but he had never got the man to kiss someone under the mistletoe.

He just couldn't bring the man to go on a date, it was frustrating beyond anything. To say he had gotten a bit desperate would be an understatement. If it had been up to him he would have dragged Coulson out on a date long ago but then Coulson needed someone that wasn't a carny drop out that was also his subordinate.

Aha, there was Coulson, walking towards May's office and as always May greeted him at the door to take one of the steaming hot cups of coffee that Coulson brought to these kind of occasions. Clint let the mistletoe drop from the ceiling right when they were underneath him, just when May made a move to grab the cup.

While it was only a side-perk it was – as always – incredibly amusing to see two trained secret agents react to something falling from the ceiling. Though really it was a miracle Clint hadn't been shot yet in his career as a mistletoe dropper.

Clint scurried away through the vents to leave the two of them some privacy to enjoy their kiss and also to avoid being shot or worse having to face May. He had a feeling that neither Coulson nor May were especially fond of his secret mistletoe missions.

Well at least this time he might have found someone for him. Which was good, though it made Clint ache a little wistful to think of Coulson with someone else. Clint reminded himself that it was about making Coulson happy – because the man deserved some happiness – not about making himself happy.

**~*~**

The next morning Coulson dropped the mistletoe on Clint's face, leading to a rather rude awakening for the archer. Without acknowledging the gun pointed at his face Phil glared at Clint before turning around and walking out of Clint's quarters.

Okay, so the safe bet hadn't been so safe after all.

**~*~**

Sitwell was not exactly Clint's first choice. He and Coulson got along fine, they were definitely friends but there just didn't seem to be any spark between them. But then Clint had been through all the people that actually had a spark with Coulson.

And maybe Coulson wasn't looking for a spark and steamy, hot romance but more for something reliable. Someone he could trust and confide in. There wasn't much trust and reliance in their kind of business, there was however much adventure and craziness and a whole other set of sparks being set off.

This time Clint wasn't in the vents, mainly because Sitwell had caught him up there more than once and really didn't like him 'creeping in the ceiling' as he called it. And while the man looked harmless Sitwell had his very own, very mean brand of revenge.

Like covering Clint in glitter while he was asleep. And Clint respected a man that was able to sneak up on him and do that.

Instead of the vent Clint was hanging out by the coffee machine across from Sitwell's office. The mistletoe was hidden up his sleeve – busy leaving nasty scratch marks – and waiting to be thrown when the moment offered itself.

Clint knew that Coulson had a 'meeting' with Sitwell today. Which was their code for geeking out about the newest R&D gadgets and complaining about incompetent field handlers. There had one of those once a week if they were both at HQ. It was all very cute and domestic in Clint's opinion.

Coulson was walking around the corner and Clint dove under the table to avoid detection though by the small twitch in Coulson's lip he might have failed at that.

Still he watched from under the desk as Coulson knocked on the door, mistletoe in hand and absent mindedly admiring Coulson's very well fitted suit.

The door opened after a few moments and Clint saw his opportunity. He threw the mistletoe which attached itself to the top of the door frame – thank you R&D – and before either Coulson or Sitwell had a chance to see that it was him he made a run for it, disappearing down the hall.

Hopefully this was mission accomplished.

**~*~**

When Clint woke up with the mistletoe glued to his forehead it was pretty obvious that it wasn't mission accomplished at all.

**~*~**

Clint was starting to loose confidence in his matchmaking abilities. He was pretty sure that by now – if you included the last years – he had worked his way through everyone Coulson was even remotely friendly with. He was starting to get desperate and as everyone knew desperate times called for desperate measures.

Though really, trying to set Nick Fury up for a kiss must mean he had reached a desperation level so far unachieved by anyone. He wasn't quite sure if he was going to live to tell the tale. But then this was for Coulson and there was nothing he wasn't prepared to do so the man could find happiness.

Also he really needed to successfully hook him up so Coulson wouldn't keep bringing the mistletoes back to him in more and more painful measures. It had been a real pain to get the last one of his forehead and had left him with a patch of red skin that would probably not go back to a normal colour for a while.

Director Fury was really his last option. While everyone was convinced that the man had no friends, was in fact incapable of emotions that were needed to have friends, Clint knew better.

Getting a mistletoe anywhere in the vicinity of the man was going to be a challenge but Clint loved those. Especially when they included incredibly stupid and live threatening risks. Yeah, he wasn't the most smart person when it came to avoiding danger.

Clint had been basically stalking Fury the last few day, looking for an opportunity to get him and Coulson alone together in a place that he could escape easily without getting shot by either of them.

It was starting to look like this was a lost cause right up until Coulson got into a loud and angry discussion with Fury about some new field regulations in front of everyone and was promptly ordered into the director's office.

Fury and Coulson might be something akin to friends but yelling at the director in front of other people, well that was just not done.

Clint knew that this might be his only chance so he slipped out of the room after the two of them, making sure that no one saw him. He didn't even dignify the knowing smirk on Natasha's face with any kind of reaction. Because of course she saw him and knew what he was up to. She was Natasha.

He opted for the vents again because while probably both Coulson and Fury could spot him up there easily it made him feel more safe. Also it opened up a lot more escape routes than he would have on the ground. And this time he would definitely need them.

Clint followed the director and his handler until they had reached Fury's office. The two of them were walking in stony silence, neither of them acknowledging the other and it was probably or the best because a shouting match between the two of them in the middle of the hallways would not be good for moral.

Clint wouldn't have minded either way. A Coulson who was yelling and angry was just as sexy as Coulson the ice man.

Once more Clint used the moment when they stopped in front of the door to shoot his mistletoe with the gun he had engineered just for this. Thank God for Fury's paranoia that had him locking his door with what felt like two hundred locks. This time Clint stuck around just long enough to see and enjoy the two irritated and confused looks from two of the most deadly and competent men that Clint knew before legging it.

He must have broken his previous record with how fast he managed to get to the other end of SHIELD's HQ through the vents afterwards.

**~*~**

This time he didn't wake up with the mistletoe somewhere in his face so he decided that his desperate last ditch attempt must have actually been a success. The grin he had on his face as he got out of bed and the whistling didn't feel fake at all. And he absolutely wasn't jealous or sad. Nope, that would defy the whole idea of playing matchmaker and _that_ would just be stupid.

Clint reached for his gun and wheeled around when someone cleared his throat behind him. And how the hell had he not woken up when someone entered his room?

On a chair in the corner of the room there was Coulson, holding the mistletoe in his hand and staring down at it. For a moment Clint couldn't bring himself to lower his gun, the adrenaline that was thrumming through his blood and his instincts not allowing him to relax.

But then he took a deep, calming breath and reminded himself that this was _Coulson_ and suddenly all of the tension was gone.

He had tugged his gun away when Coulson finally looked up. And while Clint had previously been happy that he hadn't woken up to Fury sitting in that chair he now kind of wished it had been the director. Because Coulson looked a whole other kind of cold than the one Clint was used to after a mission gone wrong and on top of that he somehow managed to convey how disappointed he was with Clint.

And if there was one thing Clint hated more than anything it was disappointing Coulson.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Coulson finally asked after Clint had stood there for what seemed like at least an hour to him.

“Doing what?” Clint was pretty sure Coulson was referring to the mistletoes but playing dumb had so far gotten him pretty far.

“The mistletoes. Why do you keep trying to set me up with people?” Coulson told him.

And the fact that he wasn't even telling Clint to stop pretending like he knew less than he did told Clint a whole lot about how serious this situation was. It made his stomach churn.

“You haven't been in a relationship or even had a thing on the side since I've joined SHIELD and that was a good few years ago,” Clint bit back, suddenly irrationally angry. Didn't Coulson see that he just wanted to see him happy? Couldn't he appreciate it? “You deserve someone to come home to more than anyone else around here!”

“Has it ever occurred that I don't want you to set me up with people?” Coulson questioned, voice still low and lifeless. Clint hated him like this.

“Why not?” Clint yelled, surprised by the intensity of his own anger.

“Scared the ex-carny will screw it up?” he added with a bitter laugh when Coulson didn't answer him right away. Couldn't Coulson appreciate what Clint was doing here? Clint wanted Coulson to have someone who was good for him, someone who wasn't a screw-up like him.

“No,” Coulson said with so much vehemence it got Clint to shut his mouth immediately. “No. Of course not. You know I don't think that about you!”

Then again it was silence and Coulson – huh when had he gotten up from his chair – looked away to the side awkwardly.

“Then what?” Clint asked, his voice gentle, carefully taking a step towards Coulson. He was barely managing to keep his urge to give Coulson a hug under wraps.

Coulson looked up again and before Clint had a chance to react his handler had stepped into his space and was kissing him. Huh. Well that explained a lot. And oh God how had he not seen this?

Clint melted into the kiss, his skin heating up where Coulson was gently cupping his face. His arms wound their way around Coulson's body and pulled the older man closer as he started to return the kiss with enthusiasm.

Clint didn't know how long they had been kissing when they finally broke apart. Even then Clint didn't let go of Coulson and Coulson didn't let go of Clint. Their foreheads were resting against his other and they were breathlessly staring into each other's eyes.

“You know, you make a pretty compelling argument for why I should stop setting you up,” Clint weakly joked when the heated gaze became just a bit too much for him.

“I still want a kiss under the mistletoe,” Coulson – or probably Phil now – replied with a soft smile as his right thumb stroked up and down Clint's cheek.

Clint pointed upwards to where there was a mistletoe above them, the same one that Coulson had had in his hands a few moments ago. Yay for better than average reflexes.

“Done!” he exclaimed.

Coulson burst out into laughter, Clint soon joining in. When the laughter stopped there was a lot more kissing, not necessarily under the mistletoe.


End file.
